Tattoos
by Forever or Never
Summary: In which Hori Kyoko decides to confront Miyamura Izumi about her bold decision: getting a tattoo. Obviously HoriMiya. One-shot, OOC, and fluff.


**Hey, I'm new here ^^ I can see why this manga is so popular; it's absolutely adorable! Why did I wait to read this :T It needs more love.**

 **Well, since I'm new, let me say this: IT'LL TURN OUT UTSUKUSHIE! Hopefully XD I'm not that cocky, guys, but I am spoiled ^^ Lemme admit it nao x3**

 **Enjoy~**

Tattoos

By Forever or Never

* * *

"Izumi," Kyoko called from the kitchen, hands sifting through the cabinets.

The young lady stood on the tip of her feet, her fingers blindly searching the top of the cabinet for a can of pineapple preserves. She would often grab a can, lower herself to relieve her sore feet, turn its label towards her, and put it all the way in the back if it wasn't what she was looking for. Hori Kyoko would repeat the process five times if it wasn't pineapple preserves.

"...Izumi?" she repeated hesitantly once she got no response. The brunette was about to drop the can of whatever she was holding, but she heard stumbling and a cry of laughter from the living room, specifically a screech from her little brother, Hori Sota, and an airy chuckle from her boyfriend, Miyamura Izumi.

After a few more heavy stomps (presumably from rolling off the couch and trying to regain balance), Izumi yelled back, "Yeah? Do you need me?" He slid onto his side, pushing himself up onto his feet quickly to make his way to the kitchen.

"No~!" she heard Sota complain. "I wanna play some more!" The younger brother flung himself at Izumik's legs, locking his arms around his knees to prevent him from moving.

"I'll be right back," the black haired teen replied, shaking off his somewhat tight grip.

"I'm not stealing him from you, Sota," she said, returning to her work: Pineapple cream pie. But she really needed that darn can of _pineapple preserves_. "I just need to borrow him real quick." She slammed her palm flat against the counter.

She really did need him; he was a good head or so taller than her, so he could obviously reach the hiding can of pineapple. But she needed to discuss some important matters with him, too. Something that involved adulthood and responsibilities and stuff of the like. She was now nineteen years old, Sota now being eleven and _still_ immature. Being nineteen meant more freedom, which meant significant decisions that could affect her future.

 _Would it really?_ She thought, tapping her finger impatiently against the counter tops. Kyoko had all the ingredients ready, and the Cool Whip is starting to turn into liquid.

"I refuse!" the eleven year-old stubbornly said, blocking Izumi from stepping foot onto the tile floors of the kitchen. "Izumi will stay here and play with me a bit longer!"

"But your older sister needs me." Izumi stared down at the younger boy and patted his head. "I won't be long."

Sota scoffed, lips curling into a disgusted frown. "She doesn't _need_ you. I bet you're going to do inappropro stuff in the kitchen because of her _wants_. You will take forever in there. You probably won't come out because things will get a bit out of hand." He boldly stuck out his flopping tongue at Izumi, dragging down his bottom eyelid for a taunting effect.

"What did you say, Sota?!" A shrill demand escaped her lips, and the two males heard a loud slam of a cabinet door being shut. A shiver tickled its way up their spines, making them shudder.

"My friend wants me to come over!" he lied with ease even though it was futile telling his older sister about his audacious comment. He snickered when he heard her grumble.

"Whatever! Just let Izumi come here for a sec."

"I refuse!"

"Sota," she growled, moaning at the end. Kyoko really should have disciplined him more; he had turned out to be a brat...most of the time. "I need him to get the pineapple preserves!"

"Pineapple cream pie?!" Sota screamed, unraveling his arms from Izumi's long legs. "You never told me you were making pineapple cream pie!" he accused, hopping into the kitchen. He was about to disappear into the kitchen, but he poked out his head, staring at Izumi. "You gotta come in here. Her pineapple cream pie is to _die_ for."

"Sota, get out of here," Kyoko groaned, leaving her spot to shove her little brother out of the room. "You can do absolutely nothing and set this house on fire."

"S'cuse me?" He looked offended with his nose wrinkled. He audaciously held her gaze.

"Out." She shooed him away with her hands, and she started dragging him when he refused to move his feet. Meeting Izumi at the threshold, she grabbed his arm and pulled him in while she pushed Sota out. "Don't eavesdrop or else I will never make this pie ever again." The masochistic brunette heard a dramatic gasp and smirked in satisfaction. "And you, Izumi," she started.

"Hey there," he kindly greeted with a smile. She smiled back at him briefly before her lips sunk back into a frown. "And what shall I do for you, milady?"

"Get that can of pineapple preserves in the back, please," she said, kissing his cheek and then briskly moving away to mix the chocolate mix and Cool Whip together. "And while I'm making this, I need to have a talk with you." She heard an audible gulp while he fetched the can from the back. She rolled her eyes, saying, "It's nothing bad, really. I just need some advice. That's all."

"Advice?" he repeated. He looked at her from over his shoulder, leaning back with three cans in his arms. "For what?"

"Thank you," she mumbled as he placed them on the granite top next to her. "I really want to match with you...," she shyly said, blushing behind the curtain of hair she made. She busied her hands with opening the sealed can, hoping to distract herself.

"How so?" He leaned his elbows against the countertop, watching as she mixed this with that and stirred that using this. His blue eyes were trained on the brilliant work her fingers were doing.

"I want to...get a tattoo..."

"You what?" His voice rose slightly from shock, and he saw her cringe from his volume. "Sorry, but you want a what now?"

"A tattoo. I really want one," she answered, keeping her amber irises on the mushy pieces of pineapple mixed in with the chocolate mix of cream. "I just need your help, like, where, what design, just plain advice." Her shoulders bobbed nonchalantly.

"You do know that it would itch and hurt during and after, right?" he informed her, gazing at the teenager with serious eyes. "I don't want you to go through that."

"But I want to match with you," she complained, brows furrowing and lips pursing into a pout. Kyoko paused to look him in the eye. "I really want one."

Izumi sighed, running a hand through his fairly long hair and keeping his fingers entangled in his raven locks. He glanced away hesitantly before boldly keeping her gaze. "Alright. I'll contact someone..."

"Really?!" she gasped, excitement bubbling in her stomach.

He smiled faintly, leaning her head in and pressing his lips against the crown of her head. "Of course. Let me just help you with this before we get distracted."

"Yes!"

:..:..:

They were now in Izumi's room. Kyoko had dropped off Sota at his friend's house (turns out that his alibi for his comment was actually true) on their way to the Izumi's place. After all, the sole reason why she made this pineapple cream pie was to show her gratitude for the many cakes Izumi has been giving their family.

Now she was exhausted; Izumi's family have been bombarding her with questions like—

*Flash back*

 _As Kyoko walked into the bakery with Izumi by her side, the comfortable sound of the exhaust and the frying of flour immediately turned off. The quick, short demands of "GET ME THE SUGAR" came to a stop, and every single person in the bakery froze. Eyes glided slowly from one corner of the eye to the other as the two walked towards the staff room, Izumi gently guiding her with his hand on her elbow._

" _This way," he said, maneuvering between the sloppy set-up of the seating. She clumsily followed him, often catching and holding people's stare with hesitation and uneasiness. "Don't worry about them."_

 _Behind her gentle smile, she hissed at him, "It's kinda hard when we're in the_ center of attention, idiot _."_

" _Eheh~" he choked out, gulping heavily. He led her to the back of the shop where the flapping doors whooshed whenever someone exited._

"I will seriously— _Oh hello, I'm Hori Kyoko, it's a pleasure to meet you." She stopped her insults right when the door flew open to reveal the parents of Miyamura Izumi._

" _When are my grandchildren going to be born? I want twins, no_ triplets _, but I also want four children that are all a year apart!" the mother dived into her questions, stepping forward with a focused determination. Her eyes sparkled albeit the furrowed brows, which gave her the_ "Disciplined, Typical, Strict Asian Mom" _look._

" _Calm down, dear," the father whispered, a sweat-drop rolling down his temple. "Sorry about this, but…. I also...want grandchildren with… black hair and...amber eyes…" His voice faded out with each fragment of the sentence._

" _What?"_

" _Um, we haven't gotten there ye—"_

 _The mother leaped on Kyoko, eyes burning her soul. "My precious, give me my grandchildren."_

:..:..:

Kyoko and Izumi were lying on the floor, the brunette's head resting on top of his chest. Her legs were curled up, knees jabbing him in the hips, but he had been through far worse because of his girlfriend's sadism. Izumi combed her hair with his fingers, kissing every lock when he was done straightening her hair. The two were just resting in silence, cherishing their time together.

"I want to get a really cool-looking heart tattoo."

"Just one?"

She grinned with a tiny noise or mischief following after. "For now," she whispered, turning over her body to stare up at him. "Maybe I'll get a wing on the right side of my back, and you'll get one on the left side. Sound good?"

He grinned, slinging an arm over her to bring her up into a hug. "I love the idea, though it does sound familiar." He looked at her expectedly, a sly smile crossing his lips. "You stole that from Sota, didn't you?"

"Mmhmmm, spot on." She laughed, nuzzling her head into the spot between his collarbone and neck. "Now…."

Izumi let out a shuddering sigh. _Three, two, one…_

She pushed her forearm up against his chin, nearly choking him. The brunette grabbed both of his arms and held them high above his head, locking them in her own arms. "Call your tattoo designer whatever and drag him over here," she demanded, a spine-shivering glint glowing in her amber eyes.

Coughing out, he replied, "Y-yes, Kyoko-san…"

"Thanks!" she chirpily answered, loosening her choking grip.

Blindly, he groped around for his cell phone, which he left on the floor after Kyoko had challenged him to a wrestling game. Finding the device, he flipped it open and searched his contacts for his tattoo designer. The named read Allen.

"Allen," Kyoko whispered over his shoulder, peering down at the name. "He sounds nice."

"But the needle he works with doesn't," he mumbled under his breath. "It hurts a lot."

"I think that's how all tattoos work," she sarcastically pointed out. "Let's just hope this'll turn out great." She rubbed her hands together, warming up the moist flesh on her palms. "I can't wait!"

Izumi grinned as he dialed the number, keeping the phone pressed up against his ear, and when he heard the familiar raspy voice of Allen, he began, "Hey, Allen…"

:..:..:

The night of the same day, Kyoko was moaning to death, plastic wrap plastered against the numb, itchy skin on her hip. The loose sweatpants Izumi lent her was drooped low in order to prevent the fabric from brushing against the swelling skin, but on the bright side, the rose looked _epic_.

She groaned again, rolling onto her good side, facing Izumi with glossy eyes. "Does it hurt?" He pouted at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.

"It hurts like hell, and I think I favor verbal abuse much better," she murmured, closing her eyes. She slapped a hand over his waist, desperately groping around for his hand. "I didn't think it'd hurt _this_ much."

"It's a tattoo; it'll stain your skin forever, so it had to hurt," he informed her in a slight scolding voice while he rubbed her sides in hope to relieve her pain. "It'll stop hurting by tomorrow."

"I don't think I can do that…," she grumbled.

"Kyoko…," he chided. "Please don't say that…"

"I'm just kidding, relax," she giggled, appearing as if drunk. "I'm just extremely tired, and when I wake up, you better be in the same. Exact. Spot. Please." The female gave him a long stare, and he nodded truthfully, moving so that they were mushed together.

"I'll never leave you by yourself; when you wake up, I'll be here," he promised, and Kyoko fell asleep immediately.

:..:..:

 **Y'know how I hoped it wouldn't turn out like crap? Well, I lied to myself. I overestimated myself; I thought I could do better ;-; I guess I'll just—y'know—live with it?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

 **Sorry for typos, OOCnss, and for putting ppl's names from other animes!**


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